Not Completely a Man of Iron
by ScarHeadRavenclaw
Summary: Tony Stark has been having nightmares since the Avengers fought in New York. Hermione tries to comfort him. Just a quick one-shot..


**Summary: **Tony's been having nightmares. Hermione helps him through it.

**Rating: **T for a couple of words.

**Author's note: **I really wanted to write a Tony/Hermione story. This is my FIRST time ever writing about Tony so bear with me please! Thank you all! ~S.H.R

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**A few words that some might classify 'bad.' I don't really use language I just used it to build Stark's character. _So PLEASE,YOU HAVE BEEN_ WARNED!**

Hermione glanced up from her parchment for the fifth time that morning. She watched as her boss, Tony Stark, stand by the large window.

He had a shot glass full of some type of liquor that he hadn't even taken a sip out of. His position was the same as it was two hours ago.

Hermione sighed and dipped her quill in ink again. She continued writing her letter.

_I apologize to the city of New York for the damage we, the Avengers, have cause approximately three months ago. We will do anything..._

Her brown eyes trailed to Tony Stark again. He gave a large sigh and shifted his weight on his other foot. Hermione continued to study him. He hadn't been the same since she and the Avengers fought Loki a few months ago.

Tony seemed to space out and didn't talking much. The only person that he would really talk to was her. Still, it didn't give any information on why he was acting so differently.

Hermione tried to write again but it was hopeless. She placed her quill in her ink bottle when she heard another sigh in his direction.

"Sighing isn't going to help anything." Hermione retorted, brushing a stray curl behind her ear. He jumped and quickly spun on his heel.

"Hermione." He breathed. "I wasn't aware that you were here. You don't come in until-"

"Nine thirty sharp. I already know. It's already eleven thirty, Mr. Stark It's nearly time for lunch." She said, cocking her head to the digital clock.

Tony's eyes widened. He then shook his head and ran a hand through his somewhat greasy hair.

"Well, damn." He murmured. Hermione would've chuckled if she wasn't so worried about him.

"Are you alright, Stark? You seem very..off... lately." She commented. Tony nodded and sat on the newly polished floor. He leaned his head back to hit the wall.

Hermione's shoes clicked as she walked across the floor. She slid into the spot next to him. She waited for him to speak first.

"I've been having nightmares." He said finally. "They...they are very graphic. They're all about New York. About the damage we caused and certain people dyeing. I-I keep seeing one of the Avengers die. It's-it's.."

"It's something you can't really describe." She finished for him. He nodded, his brown eyes focusing on her. "After the war, the Wizarding War, nightmares taunted me for Merlin knows how long. They mostly focused on death of others and being tortured. Except it was a million times worse than it had actually been."

Stark nodded in understanding. He understood completely. He wish there was something that he could do to get rid of these awful dreams.

"Can you brew me something in your pot that can stop these dreams? I don't think I can continue reliving the same dreams that feel like hell."

"It's called a cauldron," she retorted, a bit annoyed. "and I can, but it wouldn't help. I've tried it oh so many times." Hermione heard him release a loud sigh and hit his head hard against the brick wall.

Hermione then placed a hand on his knee. Both of their brown eyes slightly clashed.

"You'll get through this, Tony. I know it feels like death is already upon you, but I promise you it will get better. It's always darkest before the dawn, after all."

Tony half smiled at her as she stood. Hermione started to walk back to her desk until she spun around.

"If you never need to talk about your dreams, I would be glad to help. Even if you need something at all, just let me know." Hermione said, heartedly. She watched Tony nod as she sat back in her leather chair.

She picked up her quill from the ink bottle and started to write again.


End file.
